Fate Fallen
by MarchFrostbite
Summary: Ever since their parents divorce, Matthew Williams has felt helpless, falling victim to his mother's sudden bursts of alcohol related anger. When he meets Gilbert Beilschmidt, his life is suddenly thrown into turmoil. Can this boy really be as lonely as he is? Rated M for violence, alcoholism, child abuse and swearing. Hi! This is my first published fanfic, hope you enjoy!
1. Chapter 1

**Fate Fallen**

**Chapter 1:**

**Ever since their parents' divorce Matthew Williams has felt helpless, falling victim to his mother's sudden bursts of alcohol related anger. When he transfers to another class, he meets Gilbert Beilschmidt. Can this boy really be as lonely as he is? Rated M for violence, alcoholism, child abuse and swearing.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia. If I did, the Gerita would be off the scale!  
This is my first published story, so sorry if it's not too good and the grammar is poor! The characters may be out of character slightly. This first chapter is more like a prologue. I hope you enjoy!**

The stench of stale beer hung in the air like that of a corpse. Sickly, choking, making Matthew gag as he opened his bedroom door and stepped onto the crusted carpet of the hallway. He tried to hold his breath as he made his way from the small room, hall and into the living room, a rather spacious area which was set with a TV on the wall, a more or less empty bookshelf, a cheap, battered sofa with various stains covering the upholstery. The walls were a cream colour, but they too, had been stained by coffee, mud and things that Mattie did just not want to know about. A small table with two chairs had a small pile of magazines on it and a packet of Marlboro cigarettes.  
The repulsive sound of heaving from the small, untidy bathroom (or at least Mattie assumed it was untidy, the crashing sounds were a big hint) told him he was alone in the living room. Glancing at the door, he took two cigarettes. Taking another one as he predicted the likelihood of his mother even remembering how many cigarettes she had. They found a new home in the pockets of his jeans as he made his way to the kitchen to get the bucket out from under the cupboard, a glass from the counter, a cloth and a mop. Filling the glass with water before he left, he made his way to the bathroom, where the sounds of retching seemed to be quieting down. Thank god.  
_'Every night.' he thought. 'Every night it's the same routine.'_  
Matthew stopped, daring himself to open the door. If you thought the stale beer was bad, this was so much worse. She'd barely made it to the toilet before throwing up, making a mess more on herself than in the toilet. Cigarette smoke already clung to her clothes and her hair, the odor of alcohol from whatever bar she just arrived from hung around her like a dark cloud from a power plant. Not pretty to look at, and even worse to breathe in.  
Sadly none of this was exactly knew to the blonde. Night after night of waiting up for his mother, making sure she didn't choke and drown on her own vomit, getting her cleaned up for work the next day.  
Mattie held back a scoff. _'Work? The only reason he keeps her around is because he takes pity on her!'  
_It was true. She worked in Walmart in customer service, though most of them complained about her attitude and antisocial behavior. Even the staff were getting sick of her. On more than one occasion, the young boy had been sat doing his homework or enjoying the few hours of his mother's absence, when there'd be a knock at the door, and a stinking, limp, delirious woman was dragged into his living room. This wasn't one of those moments but it was nearly as bad.  
She groaned as the last of the bile came up, slumping against the bathtub, she gazed up at her son, a look of confusion and distaste played across her numbed features.  
"Who are you?" She slurred, jabbing one, shaking finger into his thigh. "Who-" She turned around and was sick in the bath.  
_'Well so much for getting a bath tonight...'_ he thought.  
"It's me, mom. Your son, Matthew."  
"Alfred? Thought you were with your dad, baby." She cackled slightly, or it might have been a cough. It was hard to tell these days.  
"No, mom. Matthew. Math-you!" To emphasize, he pulled on his hair slightly. It was noticeable longer than his brothers, hanging loosely by his shoulders, complete with a little curl.  
"Well, Math-you! Why don't you get mommy another drink from the fridge? Don't... don't you take any! I know what you do! Thief!" Her shrill voice cut through him like a knife as she swung her right fist to land square in the blonde's face. He barely managed to dodge the blow to his temple, but wasn't fast enough to dodge the one to his ribs. A gut wrenching sickness washed over him as he gasped for breath, kneeling on the bathroom floor.  
Mattie brought his gaze up to his mother, who stared at him, confused more than apologetic.  
"Did I get you?" her voice sounding barely over fifteen, though she was thirty-eight.  
"Yes," he choked. "You got me." She grumbled something that could have been an apology or an excuse. But she yawned, and tiredness quickly set in.  
"Bedtime."  
"Don't wanna sleep..." Her head rolled backwards, allowing her brown curls to hang loosely by her side. Matthew sighed, linking his arms under her armpits and carefully dragging her out of the room- a maneuver that proved difficult as she had gained weight in her drinking years. It took maybe ten minutes to get her dressed, and into bed. Though she smelt awful, it made more sense to bathe her in the morning, when the sickness would subside, and he'd cleaned the mess she'd made. Grabbing the glass of water and the bucket from earlier, he placed them by her bed, checking once more that she was on her side and her head was propped up, hoping that if she was sick she wouldn't choke or get it on the pristine bedsheets which he had washed earlier that evening.  
"... Night, mom..." His own voice sounding quiet now, as tears rolled down his pale cheeks. It would be an hour before Matthew Williams finished cleaning the sick out and could go to bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

**Chapter two is up! I hope you enjoy it! Hopefully I'll get around to introducing Gilbert and the others in this chapter! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia!**

The first thing Mattie did when he woke up was to check out the area where his mom's first connected with his ribs. The full length mirror showed him the dark purple bruising that covered three of his ribs. He gently pressed down on the swelling to find it sore and tender, but at least nothing was broken. Grabbing his dressing gown, he made his way to the now pristine bathroom he'd cleaned the night before. Hoping to god that the swelling magically faded before...  
_PE!  
_Matthew groaned, letting the warm water cascade down his pale skin. He liked to leave the plug in the bath, so the water could pool at his feet. The fact that he had PE today was bad enough, but the obvious marking on his ribs from the night before was bound to attract attention.  
'_They probably won't notice it anyway,' _he thought to himself. _'It's like you're invisible...'  
_Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad. He'd only have his shirt off for a few seconds before changing into his PE polo shirt. His back would be turned from everyone.  
A noise from the kitchen alerted him, and he turned off the shower, pulled on his dressing gown and joined his mother, who was awake but still smelling like the living dead, in the kitchen.  
"Morning..." Mattie whispered his voice barely audible over the hum of the fridge. Nevertheless she turned around.  
"Morning... did you..." She tugged on the sleeve of her nightgown.  
"Yes..."  
"... Thanks..." All the while her eyes never met his. They never did. "... Have we got anything to eat in this fucking house?!" His mother's voice had grown raspy over the years of excessive drinking, smoking and yelling, it had once been beautiful. That was before she was sacked from her first job as a music teacher.  
"I went shopping and bought pancake ingredients with the money you left me yesterday..." His tone was that of a shy pre-schooler; quiet and cautious. The kind you'd use when you knew a parent was barely containing their anger and stress, and that one wrong move could start a screaming match.  
She looked at her son with an expression that was a mix of confusion, distaste and exasperation.  
"I can't make them for you, if that's what you're asking." She closed the fridge, leaning against the counter. "You need to buy food that's microwavable or snacks."  
Matthew took in a deep breath before speaking.  
"Well the budget was tight and... the ingredients were all half price... we needed the money for rent..." His gaze focussed on the leg of one of the chairs at the small dining table. "It's gone up again..."  
There was silence for a moment, but Mattie couldn't bring himself to look up. She just sighed, as if she were disappointed in him.  
"I'm going to get a shower." She took a few steps forwards. "And when I get out," a few more steps. "I want you to be ready for school." Now she was right in front of him, her face only inches from his. "And food on the table. Think you can handle that?"  
Matthew nodded stiffly. She returned the gesture and went into the bathroom. Listening for the audible sound of the bathroom lock bolting shut, he swung his arm out and knocked the magazines to the floor, breathing through his teeth. But the anger dissipated into a familiar loneliness.  
Turning too got down the hall, careful not to stomp or make any sound that would alert his mother. He went to his room and opened the wardrobe.  
There wasn't a large choice of clothes, most were pretty similar; a few jeans, some pyjamas, a couple of jumpers and t-shirts, the basics. It only took two minutes to pick out a red hoodie with a white maple leaf on the front and a pair of blue jeans. His glasses were still on the bedside table, but he put them on and blinked at himself in the mirror. His blue eyes leaned more on the violet side and his wavy blonde hair went down to the nape of his neck. All in all... he was cute. Or at least that was what he'd been told by the odd person who often mistook him for his twin brother.  
Staring back at him, in the corner of his room was the teddy bear he'd had since he was born, Kumajirou. The bear was always a comfort to him, and had kept him company in the last nine years since his parents' divorce and his separation from Alfred.  
Matthew cast the thought aside as he grabbed his school bag and PE kit and went downstairs to make the pancakes.

Mattie barely managed to get breakfast done in time, but he'd somehow managed it and had rushed out to school, leaving his mother to finish off her plate which she'd no doubt leave for him to clean up when he got home. But chores weren't the biggest thing on his mind as he stood playing with his jumper in the changing rooms. The bruise seemed to hurt more now than it did when he received it, making it difficult to lift the clothing above his head. Somehow he managed to awkwardly manoeuvre it off and dropped it on the floor, facing the wall and keeping his arm against the mark, blocking the view from anyone's curious gaze.  
"Hey! Mattie! Dude!" called a loud, yet painfully familiar voice. "Not even gonna say hi to me?!" A large hand clasped him on the shoulder in a mocking gesture.  
Behind him stood his elder twin, Alfred, who was a whole lot more outgoing and popular than he was, and more handsome. But Matthew was the smart one, and their dad had often said that together they could achieve anything! But the fact was their brotherly arguing got in the way of that, and neither of them had a lot of chances to see each other outside of school, mainly due to their mom. Alfred lived with their dad in their old house on the other side of town and neither Alfred nor their dad knew, or could know, that their mother had a bit of a drinking problem. It wasn't like Matthew didn't want to see their dad. On more than several occasions he'd been invited to stay with them. On all those occasions he declined, using the excuse of homework or chores. When Alfred wanted to come to Matthews, he would tell him their mother was out and the house was a mess, which was never a complete lie.  
"Alfred..." Mattie whispered.  
"What? I can't hear you, bro! Wait, what's that you're hiding?" He jabbed at his arm.  
"Nothing!" the younger of the twins gasped.  
"Is it a tattoo?!"  
"No-" But before he could even finish the word, Alfred blew it.  
"Hey! Mattie's got ink!"  
Soon there was a small group of people gathered around the two, Alfred still trying to tug his arm away, Mattie desperately trying to shake him off. The muttering grew louder, a mix of teenagers anxious to see the 'ink' that the boy had supposedly gotten. A few familiar faces were in the crowd: The Vargas brothers, Veneziano and Lovino stood together. You probably wouldn't find brothers so opposite in your entire life. Venezianos' response was more excitable than Lovino's, who looked bored, but curious. Stood next to the hyper Italian was Ludwig Beilschmidt, a German exchange student who moved to their town three years ago, though time hadn't taken its toll on his accent, and currently he was staring at the place where the tattoo should be. Arthur Kirkland, who now joined the crowd, had the most eccentric hobbies a teenager could have. It was no secret that he'd been practicing witchcraft, not since he cast a spell on one of the most popular boys in school, Francis Bonnefoy, who walked towards the group now with his best friend, Antonio Fernández Carriedo, and a boy who Mattie didn't recognise...  
He had platinum blonde hair and red eyes, an albino, but something about his face reminded him of someone he already knew... He wasn't very muscly but he still wasn't the kind of guy that Mattie would pick a fight with.  
He didn't even realize he'd been staring until the albino smirked at him, causing his cheeks to heat up.  
"Was ist dis, Ludwig?" He addressed the stern looking German. Mattie's eyes darted between the two. Both obviously came from Germany or a Germanic speaking country. Both had stern expressions though the shorter one was smiling and not in a 'let's be friends' way... more like a 'let me invade your vital regions' way. It sent a shiver down Mattie's spine.  
"Das," replied the German. "Ist... Who are you?" he frowned, looking Matthew up and down.  
"Matthew Williams," squeaked the blonde, not sure why he felt like he had to answer. The small crowd had gone silent. The only thing disturbing it was the laugh from the albino. Even his laugh stood out; instead of being the usual 'ha-ha!' it was more like 'Kesesesesesese!'  
"Why aren't you sharing your tattoo with us zen?" All eyes went from the blonde, who was still trying to shake off his brothers' grip, and stared in wonder at the three gorgeous boys in front of them. For once Mattie was glad that the attention wasn't on him, at least not from the crowd. In fact two of the three were distracted with harassing a couple of the spectators; Francis was winking mischievously at Arthur, who turned a shade of red that Mattie hadn't thought was possible for a human to go until now. Antonio had somehow managed to creep up behind one of the Vargas brothers, Lovino, whilst all eyes were on Francis, and placed one hand on top of his head and began to play with the curl. Lovino shrieked, and then brought his elbow back, hitting the Spanien square in the stomach.  
"BASTARD!" The Italian screamed. All heads turned towards the quarrelling couple, giving the Canadian a chance to break free of his brothers' grasp and run for the exit.

Matthew waited behind the library building until he was sure that the class had left the changing rooms and had gone down to the playing fields for the lesson before making his way back to collect his bags. It wasn't the first time he'd skipped class but it was the first time he'd done it with a reason for doing so. The last time he did it was just an experiment to see if the teacher would notice he was gone. They didn't.  
The locker room door was still unlocked, thankfully, allowing him to go in, grab his bags and change back into the clothes he chose earlier that morning, only for a strong arm to snake around his waist as he turned to leave.

**Hey! Sorry about the wait! Hope you enjoyed it, I should have chapter three up soon, with a proper introduction of Prussia! Sorry I didn't add much PruCan in this chapter! **


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

**Hey! Here's chapter three! Sorry it took so long. I had exams and my dog sat on my laptop so my screens kind of... well it looks like Tony the alien except I can only see one corner and I'm having to use my TV screen as a monitor! Anyway, here's chapter three!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia!**

Matthew's heart pounded as whoever had a hold of him pulled him back, so he was pressed against their chest, which shook with the familiar laughter he heard earlier.

"You thought you could escape from the awesome me, little birdie? Kesesesesesese~" The grip on his waist grew tighter, almost painfully so.

"Wh- Who are you?!" The Canadian gasped, wiggling slightly to get free.

"I am ze awesome Gilbert Beilschmidt!" the German exclaimed right into his ear, making Mattie wince slightly at the sudden burst of noise. "And you," his voice softened. "Have an awesome tattoo to show me, ja?"

"No, I don't have a tattoo!" The smaller of the two boy's face heated up as a hand tugged at his hoodie.

"Really?"

"R-really..."

"Well zen," his thick accent washed over him, almost soothing, but at the same time it drew him in. "If there's nothing there." Matthew pulled to get away yet again, "Zen you won't mind sharing." One tug, that's all it took, and the hand was swiftly removed from the Canadian's waist, the hoodie yanked over his head, sending Mattie crashing onto the floor, both arms out to protect him as he hit the ground, leaving his bruised ribs on display to the albino, who stood, jumper in hand, staring in what could be confusion or suspicion, with a hint of distress.

Mattie quickly drew his arm over the marking, hiding it from view of Gilbert, though he knew full well that he could not unsee what he just saw.

"Matthew... was ist das?" He stepped back, giving Mattie room to stand up, and held out the jumper. Though he tried to be quick to pull the hoodie back on, there was enough time to catch a second glimpse at the red, swollen, aggravated flesh that stood out like a sore thumb on Mattie's ribs. This time Gil seemed to study it briefly.

"That is so un-awesome... who did this?" Matthew took a deep breath in before looking at his feet. A sudden nausea churned in the pit of his stomach, threatening to lose his pancakes.

"It's none of your business... you don't even know me!" He cried, head snapping up, staring at the wide-eyed stranger.

"I want to help, Mattie." Gilbert mumbled softly, though there was an undertone of anger. "I want to know why you've got a fucking un-awesome bruise on your ribs!"

Matthew took another breath. He was quieter now. Not calmer. But quieter. No one, apart from Alfred and (occasionally) his mother had called him Mattie in a long time. Sometimes he preferred to be called Mattie, sometimes Matthew. Often he was confused for Alfred or just simply ignored. Except now this guy, this stranger, didn't just brush him off or leave him behind.

"There's nothing to help me with." He whispered. Gilbert raised his eyebrows skeptically.

"Zen tell me was happened."

"No..." Gil stepped forward, raising one hand to cup the blonde's chin, though withdrew when he saw the tiniest flinch. "There's nothing much to tell. See... I tripped on my shoelaces and fell on the curb..."

Silenced descended upon the two, only to be broken when the red-eyed boy spoke.

"You promise you're not lying to me? Because that would be totally un-awesome..." The smaller boy felt a slight twinge of guilt and looked away. Why should he feel guilty? He didn't know the guy! Better yet, why should he make promises? Taking in a deep breath of air, the Canadian sighed.

"I promise."

"Awesome!" Exclaimed the... well what? His accent, though obviously German, was different to the only other German Mattie knew.

"Excuse me..."

"Ja?"

"Where are you from...?" Inwardly he scolded himself. Gilbert didn't have to tell him anything of course. In fact if anyone was being dishonest it was Matthew. Luckily this didn't bother him too much. Actually his face broke into a grin that stretched from ear to ear.

"East Germany. I like to think myself as Prussian. Mein Bruder ist Ludwig." Startled, he looked up and began trying to work out any similarities, only coming up with a few: similar facial features, both had inherited a tall gene (though Ludwig was taller) and muscle tone. All other physical features were completely different.

"... You're wondering why we look so different, Ja?" Matthew blushed and nodded slightly. His cheeks were pink and heated, hopefully the 'Prussian' wouldn't notice.

"Zat is what everyone asks me..." His cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

"I didn't mean it like that, eh, I'm sorry..." Gilbert opened his mouth to respond, only to be interrupted by the twenty-or-so teenage boys that flooded into the changing rooms.

'_Has it really been an hour already?'_ Mattie thought to himself. Looking up at Gil, he could almost tell that they shared the same thought.

"I-"

"Bonjour, Gilbert! You've met Alfred I see!" Francis Bonnefoy sauntered over in all his handsome glory. This barely helped Matthew contain the rage and resentment as it tore through him. He was not his brother. He was not Alfred. And he was going to be recognised as Matthew Williams.

"Nein, Francis. This is Matt-" Gilbert never finished his sentence as a terrible cry ripped out of the boys throat.

"I AM MATTHEW!"

...

Everyone's eyes were now on him, including Gilbert's who stared at him with an expression that was somewhere between shock and confusion. Silence descended. Suddenly the small blonde felt claustrophobic.

"I'm... I'm..."

Gilbert placed one hand on Matthew's trembling shoulder.

"You're Matthew." He whispered softly. Everyone in the room began to murmur; _'Who's that?' 'Why's he shouting?' 'Alfred's changed his name?' _

"Vait, Mattie, vait!" Gil shouted after him as he tore away from his grip, grabbed his now discarded bags and ran out of the changing rooms.

"Honhonhon~" Francis chuckled. "Well that was very interesting."

"Si," Grinned Antonio.

"Go back to your eyebrow and curl fantasies..." Gilbert felt a smile creep up onto his lips. "I've got some work to do."

How many times in one hour can a guy run out of a changing room? Too many. Though Matthew didn't go far, he found himself waiting outside of the English classrooms that mainly filled one of the buildings. The school was made up of the main entrance (which contained a reception area, a staff corridor, which lead to; the medical room, the photocopying room, the CCTV room, one of the IT service rooms and a staff toilet. The rest was made up of the school Hall, some offices and the gym, as well as the changing rooms.) The science building. Humanities, DT, art, languages and a few other science labs and IT rooms were in one of the bigger structures. Maths had it's own area.

It was classroom 2b where Matthew would spend an hour of boredom. Not because he hated English but because it was the most common lesson. He had it four times a week and after a while, it became tedious. The teacher was already in the room, lecturing a bunch of kids lower down in the school about packing away before the bell went. Mattie recognized two faces; Arthur's little brother, Peter Kirkland, and Peter's Latvian friend, Raivis Galante.

He was still panting a little from the run as the bell went, signalling the end of the lesson, meaning there was a fifteen minute break.

There was no point in going anywhere, he had his bags and his homework. He had no one to meet. Alfred no doubt would be hanging around with Arthur or Japan, trying to convince them to give them answers. Arthur would be in the middle of 'it's-not-rape-class' with Francis.

'_Unless Francis was with Antonio,'_ Mattie thought to himself. _'Maybe they were both with Gilbert. What are they doing now? Is Gilbert telling them about the bruise? What if someone tells Al?!'_

He knew Alfred seemed to forget him most of the time, but if Gilbert told him about the bruise... Al would tell their dad. And their dad would ask their mom. And their mom... A wave of anxiety induced sickness nearly knocked Matthew backwards. Dizziness took over as his mind battled with two sets of arguments.

'_If she's angry, maybe she will...'_

'_No! She'd listen to dad!'_

'_If that was true, then you'd be allowed to see him'_

'_It is true! If she's sobre-'_

'Then she'll have nothing clouding her anger-'

The bell rang, sending a jolt running through him as the sound echoed down the hallways. Time for class.

The PE teacher hadn't introduced Gilbert to the class, and that was probably for the best. This way the girls could also get to know him. There weren't that many of them in the class, only Elizabeta Héderváry and Emma. Ivan has a younger sister in the year below named Natalia, his older sister, Irunya, had apparently started college last year. Matthew knew of two other girls who were a couple of years younger but he couldn't put names to their faces. He knew one of them was Vash's little sister and the other was a girl from Belgium.

As Mattie watched curiously as Gil stood at the front of the class, he couldn't help but think how it was cruel that he knew who almost everyone else is, but they don't know him.

"Class, this is Gilbert Beilschmidt." The class murmured, and a few sniggers came from the two students at the back. "Would you like to say hello?"

After a brief introduction and a declaration of how awesome he is, the teacher assigned him a seat.

"Normally I'd sit you with your brother but his desk is full..."

"He can sit with us, miss!" Yelled Antonio from the back. Francis laughed and tapped the empty desk next to him. Gilbert began to advance only for the teacher to protest.

"No, that is just an accident waiting to happen." The two boys pouted as Miss. Keylan pulled out the register. "... How about... Matthew Williams?" She scowled at her board and looked around the classroom, scanning the equally confused crowed. Even Alfred blinked a couple of times before turning in his seat and pointing to the Canadian.

No. No no no.

A small smirk crept up onto Gilbert's lips as he made his way down the aisle and plonked himself down on the empty chair.

"Hallo, Meine Mattie." He whispered as Miss Keylan started her lesson. Something about the way he said those words sent a shiver down Matthew's spine. His throat ached as a sob was trapped, making it difficult to swallow. It wasn't like he wanted to cry, but today he'd received more attention than he'd ever dreamed of getting... why wasn't he happy? Mattie wouldn't go as far as calling himself an attention seeker. He just hoped it would come his way without him having to get up and make an idiot of himself. And twice, in the same hour, that happened. And twice he ran away. Twice, this guy was the only one phased by it for more than two seconds... so why did he push him away?

Matthew opened his mouth to speak, but only a croak escaped his lips.

"Mattie?" Concern now evident in Gilbert's voice and Mattie felt a familiar, gut-wrenching sickness.

"Matthew?" A hand touched his shoulder. Making his muscles tense, even though the gesture was gentle and non-threatening. Fear? Was he afraid of the Prussian?

"Canada?"

"W-what?" Matthew looked at him through watery eyes, when he blinked, hot trails of salty tears traced his cheeks. Gilbert looked alarmed for all but a second before pointing to Matthew's maple leaf jumper.

"Oh..." He'd never had a nickname before, and his mind was too full of contradicting thoughts to process whether he liked it or not.

"Why are you crying, Birdie?" He was full of nicknames for the blonde. Matthew didn't answer and looked at his hands.

"Are you going to tell the awesome me?" Again, no reply.

"Are you afraid of me?" Matthew batted the hand off of his shoulder, edging away from him.

"Wh-" Gil began to ask the next question in his series of enquiries, only for the sharp-tongued assistant teacher to interrupt him.

"Why are you two talking whilst she is teaching?!" She hissed quietly to cause as little disruption as possible. Of course Gilbert had to cause as much disruption as possible.

"Well obviously our conversation is more interesting than her lesson." He retorted, turning in his seat. Maybe it was because she was young and wore similar clothing to the other students, that maybe he thought she was just another classmate. But his face lost all signs of cockiness when he saw her badge that hung around her neck.

Her face went as red as a tomato and she looked like she'd swallowed poison. Her eyes were like daggers, sharp, deadly and savage.

"Detention. Wednesday. After school." The young assistant teachers' voice carried obvious distaste and barely contained rage as she issued Gil his detention slip. Gil's jaw dropped as he saw it.

"But it's my first day!" He protested.

"Well you're not making a very good first impression, are you?" A smug grin spread across her lips. Mattie knew what it meant. Gil had been labelled as a troublemaker, meaning she'd look for ways to make his school life a living hell. How did Matthew know this? Because Alfred was in the same boat after he'd put Styrofoam bubbles in the ventilation system. Mattie groaned, knowing he'd be hearing more moaning about the banshee of an assistant teacher.

"Could be worse." Gilbert said, glumly.

"How, eh?"

"Well," that damn smirk appeared. "You could be stuck in detention with someone who isn't my awesome self." Matthew's heart stopped. A bitter taste danced on his tongue.

"What did you say?" Hoping he missed heard the albino.

In response, Gil tapped the slip on the desk next to Mattie's workbook as he fanned himself with his own.

The Canadian stared at the yellow slip and sure enough, his name was written on it in curly writing (though she'd spelt it 'Matty').

"How come _I've _got a detention?!" Mattie choked.

"But Matthew." Gilbert gave him what could only be described as puppy eyes. "You were talking too."

**Hope you liked it! Sorry if it sucks (I wrote most of it in the middle of the night) R&R please!**


End file.
